


Silent Treatment

by Jolien



Category: 6 Underground (2019)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21781174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jolien/pseuds/Jolien
Summary: Secretly, One cares about all of them. But mostly about Three.
Relationships: One (6 Underground)/Three | Javier (6 Underground)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 113





	Silent Treatment

One is giving him the silent treatment. Which is not all that surprising, considering how good he is at staring judgmentally from a distance while everyone else is on the front lines getting shot at. Three just hadn’t expected it to go on for this long.

He was able to deal with it while they were still neck-deep in the preparations for the next mission: studying maps, working out schedules, acquiring ammo. But it’s been five days now since he saw his mother. Five days since he felt the muzzle of One’s gun against the back of his head and the heat of his breath at the nape of his neck. With their departure only hours away and everyone’s nerves running high, the silence is starting to chafe.

When One only picks at his burger and fries that night, shuffling them from one end of his plate to the other and regarding his squad with furrowed brows, Three can’t take it any more. He jumps to his feet.

“The fuck you looking at?”

“Sit down,” says One, without even bothering to meet his eyes.

Three, always quick to anger, feels his hackles rise. “Don’t order me around.”

One sighs, pushes his fries away and gets up. His gaze sweeps over the assembled group one last time before he turns to the door, already reaching for his phone. Since he’s on the other side of the table, Three can’t stop him from walking out, but he can sure as hell catch him before he makes it to the other end of the hallway.

“What he hell is your problem?”

One glowers and tries to push past him, but Three steps into his path.

That, finally, sparks a reaction. “You,” One hisses. “You are my problem. You almost compromised the entire mission. Why the fuck can’t you let it go?”

Three squares his shoulders. He’s not going to apologize for going to visit the last member of his family he actually cares about, even if she doesn’t return the sentiment. “She’s my mother.”

“And you need to forget her.”

“I won’t.”

One bares his teeth at him. “Then maybe you shouldn’t be on the team.”

Three is not intimidated. He’s shot a man point blank, it’s going to haunt him until the end of his days, people don’t scare him any more. Their guns, maybe. Plummeting from the sky in a sardine can calling itself a plane, sure. But not people. “You were the one who brought me in.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have,” One snarls, echoing, inadvertently, Three’s own, dark thoughts.

He crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Why did you?”

“What?”

“You knew about me,” says Three. “My father, my brothers, my employers, my targets. Everything.”

One narrows his eyes, like he’s trying to read him; to figure out where this is going. “Yeah, all the boring details.”

“There was something in there that made you pick me,” Three points out.

“Back then, I wasn’t all that fussy about who to pick. I just needed manpower.”

The words, even though spoken as a biting retort, are carefully calculated. One is trying to bait him. After living and working shoulder to shoulder with him for so long, Three can spot it as surely as he can see his target’s weak spots. But two can play that game.

“I don’t believe you.”

One laughs without humor. “You were utterly unremarkable.”

“Still don’t.”

“Makes sense. No one wants to accept they’re ordinary.”

Three feels a stab of irritation in his guts. His fingers curl at his sides, clenching and releasing. “You need me,” he says slowly. “I made a mistake, you warned me. So what is up with all of this?”

He gestures between them.

One’s eyes track the movement, before returning to his face. There’s a spark in them, fiery and threatening. “You endangered the mission.”

Three waves a hand. “Nah.”

“You endangered the _team_ ,” One shouts.

There it is. Triumph bubbles up in Three’s throat and he’s about to let it spill out when he’s grabbed roughly by the collar and shoved up against the wall. His shoulders hit the concrete, sending a spark of pain down his back. One’s nose is only an inch from his own.

“We are only safe right now because we cut all ties to our previous lives. No one cares about us because we’re officially, legally _dead_. The world has already forgotten we ever existed – except for that tiny little corner of momma’s coat-tails you’re still clinging to,” he growls, his breath coming in hot puffs against Three’s cheeks. “If someone finds us, it’s gonna be like Domino, but with guns.”

Three tenses, aggression coiling tight in his guts. He’s about to push One off – does he honestly think Three doesn’t know about the danger they’re in? Who the fuck does he think he is? – when something clicks in his mind that makes him pause. “You care.”

One blinks. “Don’t kid yourself.”

“This doesn’t look like ‘not caring’ to me,” says Three, shooting a pointed glance at where the other’s hands are still entangled in the front of his shirt.

If looks could kill, Three would be dead five times over by now. He’s about to backtrack – standing with his back against the wall and no way forward is always the worse position in any fight and he’s a hundred percent sure One _is_ carrying a gun – when his opponent’s grip wavers. Something crosses his face, a flicker of an expression, so heartbroken it makes Three’s chest tighten, and then he’s shoving him up against the wall once more, smashing their lips together.

Three makes a noise of surprise at the back of his throat. His hands fly up to grasp One’s wrists, his skin warm against the tips of his fingers.

One’s teeth close around his bottom lip, tugging hard. Three gasps. A tongue slips into his mouth, cutting off his air. The weight of One’s body pins him to the wall, sturdy and solid, and fuck if that doesn’t make his blood run hot.

One draws back, his face half shadowed with how close they are, lips glistening. “Bedroom,” he rasps.

Three nods, wide-eyed. “Yeah.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've only seen the movie once, so far. Might have gotten the details wrong. Oops.


End file.
